Kiyasume
by manhattan martini
Summary: "I was not the one who confessed to the wrong girl," Crystal snipes, watching Gold flinch. — AU, GoldCrystal


**A/N:** Japanese high school AUs are my guilty pleasure. I'm not sorry (although I am a bit ashamed). The last parts were written after an all-nighter so excuse any possible mistakes. I'll proofread this ... eventually.

**About this AU:** Gold and Blue start making out, Green confesses, and Crystal develops a rebellious streak at the same time she tries to pretend it doesn't exist. Yeah. There might be some power/control issues scattered throughout this, I don't even know anymore. Or: everyone wants to bang Crystal.  
**Names:** Akane & Matsuba = Whitney & Morty. Whitney's a third-year and Morty's one of the hot school nurses.  
**Pairings:** Gold/Crystal, Gold/Blue, Green/Blue, Everyone/Crystal (if you squint)

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**気休め**  
_kiyasume | consolation_

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You know when you think you're meant to be with someone? Not, like, _right now_, but – one day. One day. It doesn't need to have an expiration date or a finish line, but you picture yourself holding hands and maybe kissing and maybe sharing a house with a small backyard and – you know?

Crystal does. She keeps it safe inside her chest, ignoring it when it burns, ignoring it when she catches Gold staring at her skirt, ignoring it when he asks her what kind of tea she wants today, he'll get one for her, free of charge. She's great at it, too. She is class president for a reason. She's the teachers' favorite for a reason. She's too young to date, she thinks, too young to make decisions and too flustered to even think about what being in a relationship means.

Some days, though, she will allow herself some breathing space.

Some days, she offers him an embarrassed smile, letting him brush his fingers against hers when he hands her a can of peach tea. Some days, she packs away her high virtue, tidy and clean, and lets him get away with staring at her legs, hating herself for liking the attention. Some days, she walks into the bathroom of the second floor, hands dirty with paint and glue, and listens to an excited girl as she croons on about his affair with an older girl.

* * *

She doesn't ask him about it when she walks in for the afternoon block. Gold's eyes linger on her when she turns to close the sliding door, as usual, and she feels them searching for her eyes, as usual. This time, she avoids them. She thinks about her week plans – student council meeting on Wednesday, arts club on Thursday and Friday, posting up the posters for the school play on Saturday – and sits down at her desk, smoothing over her skirt with her hands.

"Super-serious girl," Gold calls, getting up from his chair, gliding over to her, slick and smooth as always. He probably expects her not to know.

Crystal is not a religious person. She goes to the shrine on New Year, prays for health and good grades, and helps the priest if he allows her to. But even though that's the only contact she ever really has with the higher power, Crystal closes her eyes and thinks, _please, God, if you're listening_ … He's a footstep away when she opens her eyes, and spots the hastily disguised guilt inside his. He's opening his mouth – an excuse? A plea for her math homework? She'll never let him cheat, now – when Koga-sensei opens the door, foul glare in place. _Thank you_, she finishes, fishing for her notebook inside her bag, watching him halt and click his tongue when Koga-sensei tells him to sit his ass down.

It's not over, though; she knows Gold, knows him better than anyone, but she's the ace of the track club, and when class is over, she flees beautifully, leaving the classroom behind, a half-wit lying within. She wonders if he'll hold hands with Blue on his way home, and then grits her teeth and focuses on something else, anything else.

* * *

"You should talk," Silver says to her, when she's done with student council things. Her bag is heavy on her arm, and Silver takes one, two, three looks at it, but doesn't manage to find the guts to ask her for it. She doesn't reveal her disappointment; Silver is pride and discomfort and anxiety all in one, and she's done with being weak, anyway, so. "To that moron, I mean."

She was in drama club when she was in middle school, so the smile she puts on her face comes easily. She's not the greatest actress, but it's Silver, anyway, and even though he's as stubborn as Maisy's grandpa, he is unable to press on when she provides him with a façade. Even if he knows she's wearing one.

"Well, as long as his grades don't drop even more." She shrugs, grabbing at the strap of her bag, trying to find a comfortable way to settle it on her shoulder. "I'm too busy to tutor him, nowadays. I could always ask Emerald – he should be up to the challenge."

Silver plays along, after a beat: "Not a chance."

Crystal giggles, just a little, to make him feel better, and Silver takes her home, wordless.

* * *

She knows Blue well. She lives in the neighborhood, along with all her upperclassman friends, along with her and Gold and Emerald. She was in the drama club in middle school, too, but Blue was good, real good, with a flair to her words that Crystal will never be able to emulate. She sees her practicing on the school stage at Wednesdays and Fridays, and sometimes she stays behind, looking, feeling a little awed and a little light-hearted.

Blue is gorgeous, with long hair and short skirts, with a kind of sexual power that refuses to be contained by her young age.

She guesses it's no wonder Gold picks her instead.

This would all be easier if she was someone Crystal could hate, she decides, staring out the window of the student council room. It's still early, so she doesn't get the privilege of having an orange-lit classroom just for herself. She wonders what the shade of her hair would look like beneath the sunset, and then shrugs, sighs – brown would sparkle, but her cyan just fades into a darker color – and twirls a lock of hair.

* * *

One day, she shows up with her hair down.

"Are you trying to prove something to me?" Gold asks, eating her up with his eyes. She's not a fool, she notices. He's not as good at hiding his lust like he thinks he is. Or maybe she's just better at figuring out high school boys. Maybe she's just better because she wants him, too. Who cares? Not him, that's for sure. Well then, she won't, either.

It's just the two of them in the classroom. She has time to waste, waiting for five o'clock to roll by. Inside her bag, her running shoes are waiting to be used. Inside her chest, her heart sinks and swims at the same time.

"What?" she says, and frowns, trying her best to look confused. It will never work. She doesn't know why she bothers.

"I'm sorry for whatever I did," he says, leaning against someone's desk. He's keeping his distance, keeping it cool, playing it safe. It bothers her so, so much, because he's reckless abandon personified and he never took measures with her before.

"Don't say it like that," Crystal shoots back, and can't totally hide the anger in her voice. She crosses her arms, assumes class president posture. Gold sighs at that, runs his hand through his hair (he needs a haircut soon), looks at a loss for words. For once. She checks her wristwatch, and decides she can leave now. It's not like she really wants to be around him, anyway. "I have practice. I'm going."

"I'll walk with you—"

"It's alright," she cuts off, slinging her bag over her shoulder and walking bristly past him.

It's really not.

* * *

Green is the vice-president of the student council.

Crystal enjoys his company, despite his dryness and his coldness, and the way he looks like he's always about to roll his eyes at someone. She thinks it's because he's the only serious person apart from Emerald she knows – and she adores Emerald, she does, but he's still just a little kid, and sometimes it's hard, being the only girl who snaps at people who slack off.

Crystal is aware of the position she is in; working beside Green is a pleasure most girls would kill for, and the fact is that she is not an oblivious fool. If she were, perhaps it would be easier to miss the deep color of his eyes, or how diligent he is, or what good boyfriend material he is. She's not stupid enough to think that she's going to fall for him, because Gold's cut a little too deep for it to heal, but—

One day, he walks inside her classroom, ignoring the eyes of all the girls who stop to stare, and hands her some flyers about a particularly nasty flu that has been going around. She skims the bright letters – _dust masks, wash your hands, avoid public areas_ – and bows her head.

"I'm sorry to make you come here. I would've picked these up myself," she says, feeling a little bothered by the attention, by the fact that she's troubled an upperclassman.

"It's fine," he returns, dryly. "Are you coming today?"

"Yes, _senpai_; after I'm done with my arts project."

Green gives her a nod and walks away, and Crystal exhales, a little nervous. When she walks toward her seat, flipping through the sheets, she feels Gold trailing her, from his seat. He's biting at the straw of his juice when she glances at him.

Maybe she's a sadist, because she smiles at him, before chiding him about having his feet on his chair (what is he, a grade-schooler? _Honestly_). He looks like he's got something to say, but she makes him swallow it. She hopes it feels like sand-paper or glass and then feels ashamed.

* * *

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we dated?" Green asks her one day, when they're the last ones inside the student council room, packing things up.

Crystal would've liked to have dropped the class journal, or would've liked to blush to the tips of her hair, or anything at all, really. She doesn't. Crystal likes to be in control of herself, which means she usually is. She still thinks of Gold when she answers, breathing in, letting it soak, making him wait.

"Sometimes."

"Would you like us to?"

"I wouldn't mind," she says, brushing the other classes' journals aside and making space for her own. "We're both serious, and we're both responsible. I could see a relationship between us working. Why is that, _senpai_?"

"Then we're dating from now on." He gives her a look. It's not as indifferent as usual – if this is better or worse, she doesn't know. She doesn't know him that well (Blue does). "Is that okay?"

She thinks of Blue and the way the two of them usually went home together. She wants to ask him why he's asking her out instead of Blue, and – is this just something to get back at her? Is _she_ just something he can use? They're both intelligent – this is the obvious course of action. They are each other's consolation prize.

_If I can't get who I want, then I would want the next best thing. He's giving me a choice_.

She turns on her feet, facing him, analyzing him. Her lip quirks to the side nervously, and this decision should be easy, should be making her heat beat.

"Okay, _senpai_."

That's it. Simple. Clean. This is all she's going to get.

* * *

The next day, both their classes know they're dating. She gets asked if he was the one who confessed, or was it the other way around? A particularly bold girl from another class stops her on her tracks and asks if it's true. The whole hallway turns to look.

"Akane-san," Crystal says, steely and a little embarrassed, "Matsuba-sensei was looking for you earlier, regarding your sudden fever. If you don't mind me saying, you look much better."

The other girl turns as pink as her hair, but looks as if she's ready to strike once more, so Crystal starts formulating a plan of escape. The machinery in her head stops grinding when Gold walks by, indifferent, with Silver by his side. The redhead stops, staring, and his hand is heading straight for Akane's shoulder, so she gives him a warning look. She doesn't need anyone fighting her battles for her.

"Is it true or not!?"

She sees the yellow of his eyes drag lazily toward the two of them, and then:

"Yes, it's true. Now, please be on your way."

The hallway echoes with a surprised murmur, and Crystal watches Gold go, his hands deep into his pockets. She wonders if they're fisted, and walks in the opposite direction.

* * *

"We won't do any couple stuff, will we?" she asks Green. They're on the pathway between the gym and block A, eating lunch together. He looks at her, eyes wide. Is he embarrassed or just annoyed? Crystal feels her face heat, and waves her hands at him. "Oh, no, I meant – if it's for me, I won't mind. I never figured _senpai_ was the touchy-feely type, either, but it's better to check."

"You can call me Green, you know. If we're dating—"

"But we're not. I mean – not really."

He sets his chopsticks down, looking at his lunchbox, thinking hard.

"Do you think that lowly of me?" His voice is quiet. He brings his accusatory eyes to hers."I wouldn't ask you to go out with me if I didn't feel anything for you."

Crystal's ears are hot as she averts her gaze hurriedly.

"Ah, um, I didn't mean it like that, _senp_—um, Green-kun. It's just that … We both like other people. This is the consolation prize." She picks at her vegetables. She's already full. Full of it, too. "I don't want to be … I don't want to feel like a vengeful girl. I feel flattered that you find me appropriate enough to date, of course – but would've you asked me out if Blue-_senpai _and Gold didn't start dating?"

Green doesn't answer, but his silence does it for him. Crystal closes the lid of her box; she'll have to give her vegetables to someone, later.

* * *

"I heard they fought," she hears, one day, upon entering the classroom. When she turns to look, the girl hushes.

Silver hasn't arrived yet, which is unusual, but she is relieved to notice Gold is already slumping in his seat. He looks like he's asleep, and she wants to bump her hip against his desk, wants to wake him up with a terribly-hidden smile and a comically angry face, hands on waist and glare on her face – but she can't, can she. So she just walks by without glancing at him, allowing her bag skid across the edge of his table. If he wakes up, she'll say it was an accident.

He peeks from under his hair when he feels her bag smack against his elbow, and she spots the dark-purple cloud around his pink eye. Crystal halts, her hand twisting around the handle of her bag, until her palm stings. He leans on his arm, neutral, looking up at her. She has never seen him so expressionless, and it scares her. Kind of. She tries telling herself she has nothing to do with it, but aren't they still friends? They are, right? Or is their relationship so weak that it will fall apart at the slightest threat? Can't they remain platonic, like before? Or was all this time just foreplay? Did they run a marathon only to fall short at the last step?

"What?" he moans at her, voice deep from sleep. Her fingers dig deeper into the handle, until she feels her nails raking across the small bends in fabric.

The classroom has gone quiet. Is it because she's class president and he's slacking, or because they all know there's something more between them? She ignores them, keeps her stance wide and ready, her eyes on his.

"What happened to your face?"

"Nothing that concerns you."

"Gold-kun," she says sternly. She hopes he'll think of the cruel way she says the honorific later, when he's alone, or maybe when he's kissing his girlfriend. She feels ashamed. She thinks she's getting used to the bitter girl part. She still pictures him getting conflicted by the distance she is purposefully shoving between them. "Have you been fighting? You should know better than to—"

"I said it doesn't fucking concern you," he shouts suddenly, grabbing his bag and standing up, towards the door. He opens it and glances at her from the corner of his eye, defiant. Hopeful. "What? Aren't you going to stop me?"

"I'm neither your mother nor your girlfriend," she check-mates, pocketing his king. Only the queen is left.

* * *

Silver shows up late, with a split lip, and Crystal thinks, _ah, so that's why._

* * *

"We should probably talk," Blue begins one day, when it's lunch hour and Green is not with her. Crystal spots the other boy Blue is always with, the black-haired boy who's the captain of the basketball team, but he practically flees at the sight of the older girl. "Don't mind him, he's a chicken, can't deal with lovey-dovey stuff," she adds, when she follows Crystal's intent gaze. "Do you want some juice or something?"

"I'm fine, thank you, _senpai_."

"Respectful," she whistles, impressed. Is she being serious or just mean? Crystal can't tell. "I can see why he'd like you."

Crystal says nothing. Blue tips her head, purses her lips, like she's thinking, and yes, Crystal can see why she's the star of the drama club. The mood is awkward and Crystal is too, but Blue would probably rather die than to be socially inept. She sighs, finally deciding on what kind of screenplay to follow, and massages the bridge of her nose.

"Well, okay. First off, I'm not sorry for stealing your boyfriend."

The pit of her stomach burns with embarrassment.

"He is not my boyfriend. Nor was he ever."

"Really?" Blue taps her chin with a very well-manicured finger. The nail polish is colorful, but polite enough to pass school regulations. Green isn't interested in beauty or style and Crystal has to force herself to look away from her own clean-cut nails. Should she paint hers, too? "From the way he acted, I thought you two were dating."

"Not at all. Is this all, _senpai_?" She gets ready to go, ready to put her prized legs to the test, but Blue suddenly holds up her hand, offering Crystal the sight of her palm. It looks soft. Crystal's fingers are chapped from the track, chapped from the cold, chapped from posting up posters every single day. She's so tired already.

"Wait! Look, you're my _kouhai_, and I don't dislike you, even though I don't know you very well. Basically, I've come to talk to you because Gold and I are breaking up. That, aaaand … someone told me my attitude was not the best one regarding all this terrible mess we got ourselves into, so here we are." Blue gives her a million-watt smile, hands on her hips. "I'm not sorry for getting between you two, even if that makes me the bad girl. It kind of has a flair to it, anyway, don't you agree? Bad girl!"

Blue-_senpai_, bad girl extraordinaire. Crystal can't even smile.

"I'm not breaking up with Green just because you're telling me this, _senpai_." She feels a little flushed at the thought that she's said his name with no honorifics, no nothing, but doesn't look away from Blue's eyes. The other girl is just slightly taller.

Blue's eyes flash (with a challenge? With spite?), but the smile on her face is as clear as the sunshine outside.

"I didn't think you would. You're not that kind of girl. You're a good girl, aren't you?"

Crystal thinks of Gold's swollen eye, thinks of the way she once held hands with Green just because she saw him in the distance, thinks about the days where Gold was just hers to keep, and nods tightly: "Yes, _senpai."_ It is the first time she lies so impulsively.

* * *

"I thought you would've broken up with him by now," Silver confesses one late afternoon. It's almost Christmas, and it shows in the icy air, in the bright white skies.

"I thought he would've broken up with me by now," Crystal confesses back, looking ahead. She doesn't say she's disappointed he hasn't.

* * *

Green doesn't show any signs of discomfort when they hold hands. They haven't gone further than that, and they won't, because Crystal won't allow it. It's not like, she muses, he _wants_ to kiss her, or anything. Once upon a time, she read in a book that a platonic relationship was the best one to have, but she can't say that she agrees. What about the rush of heat she wants to get when their hands collide when they walk? What about the skip in her stomach, warning her that the object of her affections is standing too close? What about what she wants, for once?

Gold hasn't talked to her in two weeks and she feels like someone's stuck a very thin needle through her chest.

* * *

"I can't do this anymore."

Green looks up from his book, nonchalant, like he's got absolutely no clue that she's about to unknot the string that's keeping them tied. He's on library duty, and he doesn't hike his feet up on the counter like Silver once did. He's responsible. He's stern. He's steely. He's a male version of her and that explains why they will never really work. That explains why Blue and Gold didn't, either.

"We want other people, _senpai_. I can't pretend I have feelings for you."

He looks down, probably to memorize the page number, and then shuts the book and places it on the counter. He doesn't stand up.

"I don't like Blue," Green says. "She's just a childhood friend."

She wants to laugh at how stubborn he is.

"I like Gold," Crystal retorts. "He's also just a childhood friend. He's difficult and brash and pig-headed – the exact opposite of me." She breathes in, closing her eyes to focus, to dissolve the heat that's taken over her face. "And I can't see us working out. We're the same. It took me a long time to figure it out, but we're too alike, _senpai_." She bows down, slow and steady, like a tea ceremony or something old and medieval, and when she straightens, Green is pressing his fingers into his temple. "I'm sorry," she adds.

"It's okay," he says blandly, almost as if he's annoyed, and Crystal is sure he's lying. She wonders, when she walks out the door, if he's ever joined a drama club.

* * *

Gold ambushes her next to the shoes' lockers, first thing in the morning. It's still very early, and she's only there because she needs to ask Koga-sensei for notes. Gold plants his hand against the door of her locker, and Crystal doesn't even bother squawking indignantly because she's still terribly mad at him. She doesn't want to offer any comic relief.

"Can I get my shoes, please," she drones, as frosty as the weather outside. She wants to avoid his eyes, but won't. Dodging anything he has to offer now would be weak. She will decline and decline and decline, show him that she's not as easily manipulated as he wants her to be. She won't accept his advances just because she is single now.

"I'm—" she perks up at the sound of his breathing, because she knows him, and if his motormouth is malfunctioning it's because he's going to shoot himself right in his pride, where it _really_ counts. "I'm sorry, okay?" His eyes dart at the floor, and Crystal spots a tiny hint of red blooming on his ears and cheeks. She swallows, savoring his humiliation like it's her favorite ice cream flavor. Slowly. "I just wanted someone."

"I wanted someone, too," she says, more to herself than to him. "Now, I'm not so sure."

Gold grabs her by the sleeve, and then by the line of her jaw, bringing her up until they are close enough to kiss. Crystal feels her stomach fall and her eyes widen, even though she knows he would never dare. He presses his forehead against hers, and their noses almost, almost bump. He smells like perfume and she's glad she's worn a scarf today, because his eyes would see right down her shirt from where they stand.

"Why did you only talk to me after I broke up with Green?" she asks.

"I don't know."

"You _do_ know."

Gold grits his teeth, steps away. Crystal takes off her shoes, replaces them with the indoor ones.

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah," she says, hollow, "me too."

He stays behind, and ends up skipping the whole day.

* * *

"Looking good! Hey, I thought you would've made up by now, _kouhai_," Blue calls from one of the second-story windows. "Want some juice?" She waves a can at her.

"No, thank you," Crystal replies, polite. "How have you been?"

"Alright, I guess. Green still likes you, did you know?"

"Ah," it's all she can say.

"Yeah, I feel you," Blue replies, with a sigh. "Look, _kouhai_, not everyone is as perfect as you and me, okay? Just breathe for now, and, when you're ready, give him another chance, will you? I can assure you he's beating himself up for all this."

She will make no such promises because she doesn't want to vocalize what she knows will already happen.

* * *

What hurts the most is probably the fact that they've known each other since preschool, and, well, she's not saying they promised to marry each other like some other childhood friends she knows, but the fact is she's liked him since middle school, and that should count for something. All the boys she's turned down should count for something. All the hours spent with him and Silver should count for something. All the Valentine's chocolate she made should count for something.

But it didn't. Here they are, high school years, and he decides to pick someone over her. What's wrong with her? She's a nice girl to bring home, she's an excellent student, she's his type, too (because when Gold talks about the kind of legs he likes, everyone in a radius of ten miles will inevitably listen). So, why? Why did he pick another girl?

"I don't know," Gold says, and his voice catches at the end. "I didn't want to screw it all up."

"You didn't want to screw it up?" she quotes, in deep, deep disbelief.

"I was fucking scared, okay?"

"Language!"

He groans, pressing his forehead against his knees. The stairwell is empty, like the school. If the janitor finds them, they'll be brought to the staff room, and Crystal has a reputation to keep, but here she is. Here they are.

"Did you kiss him," he asks, muffled. He sounds like he's about to cry. Reminds him of the kids who throw tantrums when they can't get what they want.

"H-How dare you—" she starts, already reddening, and smacks him with her bag. "I was not the one who confessed to the wrong girl," Crystal snipes, watching Gold flinch. "You have nothing to do with what happened between me and Green!"

A beat. She mimics him, letting her head fall onto her crossed arms. Of course he knows she'd never kiss anyone else. Damn him. Of course he would ask, of course he would—

"I like you," he says. "I like you so much it scares me. That's why I took the easy way out." He laughs. It sounds vacant and fragile, kind of like her right now. "Only it wasn't the easy way out. It was the hard way in and I'm still not sure if you'll ever forgive me." His knuckles grab at the folds of his winter uniform, pulling and straining, whitening. Crystal doesn't even attempt to stop him. "So, yeah, fuck it, I'm sorry."

He gets up, shoulders pinched.

"If it helps, I thought of you when we kissed."

(She will never admit it, but it helps, just a little.)

He turns to her, extending his hand; Crystal takes it slowly, letting her own fall limply on top of his. He doesn't smile, but he intertwines their fingers and only lets go when they reach her porch. He doesn't try to kiss her and she doesn't know whether to be disappointed or proud. Crystal watches her breath go up in smoke, like her resolves, and says:

"I'll see you tomorrow."

Gold smiles at her, a little unsure, a little nervous (afraid she'll up and leave him in the dust, like he did), and says, "promise me."

It's not a question.

She still nods, tight, and when she closes the door behind her, she feels one hundred pounds lighter.


End file.
